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  Praise for The Sapphire Flute: Book 1 of The Wolfchild Saga

  “The Sapphire Flute is a steady burst of imagination and adventure. What a great start to the series!”

  James Dashner, author of The Maze Runner

  “This book has everything I read fantasy for: excitement, adventure, engaging characters, and a storyline that is completely unpredictable. Not to put too fine a point on it, but Karen Hoover is one heck of a writer! Now I just want to know when I can get my hands on her next book.”

  J. Scott Savage, author of the Farworld Series

  “A delightful tale filled with action, magic, and enchanting characters you’re sure to love!”

  Julie Wright, author of The Hazzardous Universe

  “This is one of those books I can picture myself reading when I was much younger—I think it would be among my most-loved books of my pre-teen and teen years, along with A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle, The Oval Amulet by Lucy Cullyford Babbitt, and Lloyd Alexander’s Prydain Chronicles. Perhaps it may be presumptuous of me to rate The Sapphire Flute so highly. I do so because this story resonated with me the same way those did. I can see my self re-reading this book many times down the road, as I have the titles I mentioned above.”

  Melissa Owens, of Melissa’s Bookshelf, book review website

  “I thought that the Sapphire Flute was a masterpiece of magic, adventure and action mixed together. I have no doubt that the Armor of Light will be even better and I cant wait to find out!”

  Eli S. Age 12

  The Armor of Light

  by Karen E. Hoover

  The Wolfchild Saga

  Book 2

  The Wolfchild Saga:

  The Sapphire Flute

  The Armor of Light

  *The Emerald Wolf*

  *The Amethyst Eye*

  *The Hidden Coin*

  *The Ruby Heart*

  The Crystal Mallet*

  *FORTHCOMING*

  The Armor of Light

  by

  Karen E. Hoover

  Book 2 of TheWolfchild Saga

  Published by Karen E. Hoover and Tin Bird Publications

  Copyright © 2022 Tin Bird Publications

  Copyright © 2011 Karen E. Hoover

  Cover Art © 2011 Deirdre Eden Coppel

  Smashwords Edition

  This book is available in print at most online retailers.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction, and the views expressed herein are the sole responsibility of the author. Likewise, certain characters, places, and incidents, unless specified in the acknowledgements, are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 978-1463663100/ISBN-10: 1463663102

  The Armor of Light / Karen E. Hoover/Tin Bird Publications:

  1st Edition, September 2011

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Acknowledgements

  You’d think I’d have this acknowledgements thing down by now. After all, I’ve written a couple of books already, but I still sweat over forgetting somebody. Crazy me.

  First, I want to thank Tristi Pinkston for the marvelous edits (as always), and Deirdre Eden Coppel for the fabulous artwork.

  Second, I want to thank all the many people who have read my early drafts and told me to keep going. Shari Bird, Laura Taggart, Jannell Locke, Shanna Blythe, Rebecca Blevins, Nicole Burton, and many more. If you read it and I forgot to add your name, know that I am thanking you now. I couldn’t have done this without you guys. Thank you for pointing me in the right directions when my characters were floundering, and for cheering me on when I was down. You guys rock!

  Third, I want to thank the wonderful people who let me write them into The Armor of Light. Brenda Clarke (Brendae), Rodney G.(Rahdnee), Jayden Hancock, my husband Gary Lynn (Graylin), and Tyese Burton. It was a total blast making real people into characters and giving them powers. I hope I get the chance to do it for many years to come.

  A very Special thanks to my husband, Gary, for filling in for his often absent wife. For cooking, cleaning, taking care of kids, and being patient with me when deadlines loomed. Also to my sons, Austin and Robert, for loving me even when I crankily tell them I have to finish this chapter and no I can’t watch TV with them right now. I could never do this without your support, and I love you guys more than anything in the world.

  Lastly, I’d like to thank my Heavenly Father, for the inspiration and gifts He has given me to use. Without Him I am nothing.

  Prologue

  The girl called Shadow crept into the glade, the magelights of Javak shining their unnatural blue glow over the city. Unlike a true fire, the magelights never flickered. They were unwavering, neither hot nor cold—and yet the glow seared into her eyes, leaving floating balls of blinding light impressed on her retina long after she turned away to hide in the shadows of the forest. The girl blended herself to the darkened lengths of shade cast by the tall pines in the moon’s glow. She faded into nothing, an extension of the natural balance of light and dark, unnoticed, unseen.

  The teacher came next, the one called Dragon. Careless, the teacher was fully in the meadow before slipping on the dragonhead mask, features fully exposed to view. C’Tan would be furious if she knew. Shadow was stunned at Dragon’s true identity. Had she not seen the face, she would not have believed.

  At the mage school, Dragon was the kind teacher, always willing to take time to help a student. But here in this glade, she heard only the harsh and bitter, fury and hate for the academy and for Ezeker in particular. Dragon at last pulled down the mask, covering the face, the dark contours of the black drake leaving all but the eyes hidden, then leaned against a tree to wait.

  The guards came together, Magnet and Seer, male and female, their faces already covered by the plain helm that hid them—but Shadow knew them. She had known since the first meeting. There was no mistaking Seer’s terse alto tones and Magnet’s rich baritone. His voice was as familiar to Shadow as her own—a voice she both loved and despised.

  The voice of her father.

  The three masked figures watched each other warily, never trusting. Stillness descended over the glade with their presence, as if the very insects could feel their malice.

  They stood in silence until the deep beat of wings coming from the east pulled all eyes up to watch the descent of the Mistress, current owner of their souls, by rule of their true master, S’Kotos.

  C’Tan flew in on her dragon. Behind her sat a young boy, his arms wrapped around her torso. The black beast back-winged, stirring the pine needles and dust into a frenzy about the group, their hair whipping in the wind.

  No one moved. They stood as if frozen until C’Tan dismounted the dragon and leaped to the ground, leaving the boy to dismount the black beast on his own. He moved as if he were born on a dragon and came at her side, his stance too mature for his years.

  “Who is the child?” Seer asked.

  C’Tan did not answer, but instead threw her words to the darkness where Shadow hid.

/>   “Show yourself, Shadow.”

  “Yes, Mother,” the girl answered, fading from darkness to a semi-transparent gray that still left her face and figure a mystery.

  C’Tan grimaced. “I have asked you not to call me that, girl. Do you wish to give away our plans with a slip of your tongue?”

  “And who is there to hear, Mother? They already know that—” Shadow stopped with a grunt of pain. Her shadow cover wavered as she collapsed to her knees and looked at C’Tan in astonishment. The blonde woman’s arm was outstretched, her hand hooked, claw-like. Shadow’s insides felt as if they were about to burst. She fell to her side, the pain was so great, but she refused to give her mother any further satisfaction. The pain stopped immediately when C’Tan dropped her hand. Shadow sucked in a deep, sobbing breath and scrambled to her feet.

  “Do not question me, child.” C’Tan spoke in a deadly whisper. “There is too much at stake. Do as you are told.”

  “Yes, Moth . . . Mistress.” Shadow faded back into darkness.

  There was silence for a long moment as C’Tan glanced at each person, then to the boy at her side. The child couldn’t have been more than eight or nine. He grinned up at C’Tan with cold eyes. Shadow felt a pang of envy for the boy who stood so close to her mother, but she squelched it quickly. There was no use in longing for that which would never be.

  C’Tan finally spoke. “The Chosen One has come.”

  She didn’t need to say anything more. Everyone stood a little sharper, the intensity in the glade increasing.

  “Laerdish has failed us. His true nature has been discovered and he has fled with barely his life. But he has managed to get us some useful information. The Chosen One has been accepted to the academy.”

  Now their voices leaped over one another, asking questions. C’Tan quieted them with a single motion.

  “Her name is Ember Shandae and she will arrive with the next intake, but . . .” she paused, her eyes gleaming. “I have a plan. I believe you all know Ian Covainis?” She gestured to the boy and was greeted by stunned silence as the boy stepped forward and bowed.

  “You must be joking,” Shadow’s father, Magnet, growled.

  “Have you ever known me to joke?” C’Tan quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

  Magnet scratched his nose beneath the helm. “Actually, no, I have not.”

  “Nor do I joke now. Ian, tell them,” she demanded of the boy.

  Shadow had to admit there were certain similarities between this child and the man she knew. The protruding ears, the shape of the nose, the smile that held no warmth —yes, it could be, though it seemed impossible.

  “I found the girl, Ember, outside of Karsholm. I captured her and planned to bring her to the Mistress, but she shapeshifted into a wolf and escaped with a pack. I didn’t find her again until I got to Javak and discovered that she had shapeshifted into a boy. I alerted Laerdish, and he tried to make her look like a fraud, but it backfired on him. She can read all the colors of magic, people. Every one.” The silence around him spoke for itself. “The Mistress thought it might be good if an agent could be planted into her class—someone who can get close to her while she’s vulnerable. And since I’ve had the most experience with her, C’Tan age-regressed me so I could hide in plain sight.” Ian’s young voice was at odds with his tone and words. “Much as I might wish it, I cannot do this alone. The girl is smart and trusts very few. We’ll need to work together if we hope to succeed, and I can’t do that with your anonymity. It has served its place, but now is the time to let yourselves be known.”

  Ian waited in silence. Nobody moved or spoke. He shook his head and ran a hand through his wavy hair. “All right then, if you won’t trust me with your identities, we need to have an alternate way to contact one another. Any ideas?”

  Seer snorted. “And why should we help you?”

  “Because I said so,” C’Tan answered for Ian. Seer glared from beneath her helmet, but said nothing more.

  “Let’s use the sending stones and establish a password in case we need to meet in person,” Magnet said in his deep voice.

  Shadow shivered.

  “A password? Such as?” Ian asked.

  “Wolfchild,” Dragon growled. “Make the code wolfchild.”

  Ian smiled. “Wolfchild it is. Now, first we must gain the girl’s trust, bring her into our circle, and turn others against her as often as possible so she has nowhere else to go.”

  “And what is that supposed to accomplish?” The woman sneered again.

  “Why, it should be obvious,” the man-turned-boy leered, which looked strange on his nine-year-old face. “We get the Chosen One to trust us, chain her with her weakness, and lead her away from the light of Mahal to the darkness of S’Kotos. If we can’t defeat her, then she must join us—or die.”

  Shadow shivered, but she did not leave. If good or evil were carried through the blood, she had no choice. With parents like these, who needs enemies, she thought as they pulled her into the circle and planned Ember’s demise.

  Chapter One

  There was still ash in the sky when it began to rain. Ember watched the fat droplets pound against her window, turning Javak a murky gray as the moon rose over the city of magic. He was still out there somewhere. She could feel him watching her from the darkness, could feel his ever-present spirit as aware of her as she was of him, now that she knew who he was—now that she knew her father was still alive.

  With a sigh, Ember Shandae turned from the window and threw herself back on the bed. Three nights—three sleepless nights she’d spent in this room since the mage council had accepted her into the academy. Three nights of tossing and turning since Laerdish had made his betrayal known—and three nights since Ember had discovered that the white hawk who’d been watching her for so long was actually her father.

  Ember sat up and surged off the bed once more to pace the small confines of the room, her thoughts and feelings a whirlwind of which she could make no sense. She had to find a way to get some rest. She’d never survive in the academy if she couldn’t sleep. “This is ridiculous,” she said to no one in particular.

  Suddenly feeling claustrophobic and desperate to do anything to relax, Ember grabbed a towel, her weather charm, and a change of clothes and headed out the door. She walked quickly down the hall, her soft boots shuffling across the marble floor of the council house.

  She’d been surprised at first when she’d been told to stay in the room Uncle Shad had arranged for her, but it made sense in a way. The people closest to her were nearby to protect her if necessary—Uncle Shad and DeMunth, Ezeker, Aldarin, and now her mother and Paeder. They’d all taken rooms near hers, though they didn’t seem to suffer the same trouble with sleeplessness that Ember did.

  Ember left the council house and crossed the water bridge. She walked quickly through town. Only the pitter-patter of raindrops that didn’t touch her and the thundering waterfalls escorted her through what had been a bustling market the day before.

  Everyone was gone now, with only crumpled paper and mounds of rotting food on the ground, and occasional feathers floating across the wet grass to show anyone had even been there.

  Ember shook her head. Why can’t people pick up after themselves?

  She arrived at the women’s bathing quarters and quickly checked herself in. The bath girl was asleep on a pad just inside the door. The girl who had nearly given Ember trouble at her trial didn’t stir as Ember tiptoed past to write her name in the book and leave a thumbprint.

  Within five minutes, she had undressed and slid into the water. The edges were lukewarm and shallow, nowhere near what Ember needed to loosen the kinks that had settled in her shoulders. She waded slowly to the deep waters and swam toward the waterfall cascading from the cliff high above. Her toes found the sandy bottom once more as she neared the falls. Ember stepped directly into the stream and let the liquid begin its heated massage.

  The tension immediately began to fade. The water was almost too hot�
�pleasurable to the point of pain.

  It was perfect.

  Ember closed her eyes and sat on a boulder sunk just beneath the waves. With her muscles beginning to relax, she could at last address the issues that had kept her sleepless these many nights.

  First, her father was not only alive, but had become a messenger of the Guardian Mahal. She didn’t know how to feel. She was happy he was alive, disappointed he thought so little of her that he’d never told her he was there, angry that he’d been gone all these years, and elated that he had healed Paeder. She had to admit, she was also a little intimidated, knowing he worked for one of the creators of Rasann. She wanted to get to know him, wanted desperately for him to never have died, wanted to give him the tongue-lashing of his life and throw herself into his arms and never let go.

  She felt like her insides were one giant pot of soup with opposing flavors—pineapple with hot peppers and potatoes and a handful of dirt for good measure. Her heart ached with the lack of a solution. More than anything, she wanted to sit down with her father and just talk and have a chance to resolve the conflict stirring within her.

  That thought led Ember to the second, and probably more challenging, of her troubles.

  She was the first white mage in three thousand years. She didn’t know how to use her magic, and there was no one around to train her. The weight of responsibility was overwhelming. A white mage was supposed to help heal their world, to mend the net of magic that surrounded Rasann. Ember had no idea where to begin, and neither did anyone else. What was she supposed to do? Teach herself? How could she mend a net she couldn’t even see?